


snowfall kind of love

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 21:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13689975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Prompt:Winter getaway with mandatory bed sharing as friends to lovers.





	snowfall kind of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InvisibleRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleRaven/gifts).



There's a cabin on a mountain, snow piled high against the walls but cleared neatly from the stone path up to the front doorway. 

It's picturesque, a retreat home with four bedrooms and a hot tub and a large stone fireplace and a view of the mountain. When he looks at it, the rustic visage nestled into a blanket of white, he thinks he could write whole books about the things that happen in those walls. 

But he's not here to write someone else's love story. He's here to chase his own. 

* 

The story right now is: there is no story. 

But - there could be, and that's what makes the butterflies tumble around in his stomach as Chris hefts his suitcase out of the trunk of his car. 

Cooper's besides him, tail wagging madly. He's excited not to be left behind in the care of a pet sitter, and Chris is happy to have him. He's fairly sure at least half the reason Lauren invited him in the first place was so that he'd bring Cooper and Diane could have her best puppyfriend as company for the weekend. 

He's also pretty sure that Lauren just finds her tiny Chihuahua sleeping on top of his oversized oaf of a Golden Retriever just the height of instagramability. He might be the type of pretentious hipster writer who still has an actual typewriter in his office but it's a social media world they're living in, and he has to admit the pictures are awfully damn cute. And apparently lucrative for Lauren and the small dog sanctuary she helps run. 

"You made it, Cee bag!" She shouts, just as yappy and bright as the dog at her heels. Cooper immediately spins in an excited circle that has him almost tripping over his feet. 

"I hate you," he says, hugging her. "What Lisa Frank fanatic did you steal that outfit from?" 

"In there with the nineties references," she says, whistling. Her hair is up in a high pony and she's got a teal headband on, with a teal, pink, and purple snowsuit. "Weren't you like, a fetus then?" 

"Born in '91," Chris says, sticking his tongue out at her. 

"Oh, cool. We're all legal then." A familiar voice calls out, popping up from behind Chris somewhere. He manages to neither jump nor swoon despite the voice belonging to the the man who happens to be exact reason he's on the trip. 

"Darren, babies born in 2001 are almost legal," Lauren says. 

"You're really bad at math," Chris informs her, and then jumps as Darren steps in far too close. 

"Just getting your bag for you," Darren says, flashing a grin. 

"You don't have to-" Chris starts to say, but Darren's already walking inside. He's helpless, really, to do anything but follow behind... definitely not checking out Darren's butt the whole time they walk. 

* 

The cabin is gorgeous, all old polished wood with new appliances and marble slam countertops in the kitchen. 

"Do you cook?" Darren asks Chris, when he notices Chris admiring it. 

"I microwave," Chris says. "But I'm a pro at that." 

Darren laughs. He's got such a good laugh. Their eyes meet, and there's that same _something_ Chris felt the first time they met, a few weeks back at Lauren's house. 

They'd talked for an hour about Broadway and books and teenage interests and had just been wandering into that territory of life-story sharing when Darren had been whisked away. 

Chris's only aim for the weekend is find a way to get back to that spot. 

* 

He dumps his bags in a guest room with one bed. Lauren knows him just well enough to know that Chris prefers his alone space, and he's grateful for the accommodation to his weirdness. He knows from googling the address online that at least two of the other bedrooms had two beds, and one of them has a double with bunk beds. 

He tries not to think too hard about where Darren is sleeping. 

*

"Where are you sleeping?" Chris works up the nerve to ask, three drinks in. There's music playing loudly and they've had a cobbled together dinner of sandwiches and chips and vegetables from a tray. 

Chris normally hates this kind of environment, but there's something about Lauren and Darren and this whole group of people whose names he mostly doesn't even remember yet that sets him more at least than most. 

And Cooper is having the time of his life with everyone feeding him table scraps and taking turns rubbing his belly. 

Darren turns his head easily at the sound of Chris's question, patting the sofa they're on. "Right here, baby." 

"Oh, really?" Chris frowns. "How did I end up with a single and you're on the couch?" 

"Well, I don't think Lauren assumed you'd want to share..." Darren says, voice trailing off. 

It's the four glasses of wine talking when Chris says, "Maybe she shouldn't assume, then." 

* 

As exhilarating as his boldness is, Chris still finds himself alone when he walks up the wooden staircase at almost two in the morning. 

Darren's outside somewhere, partaking in a certain sort of intoxication that Chris isn't particularly a fan of. Chris thinks about finding him but he's not sure at what point flirtatious engagement turns into slightly creepy stalking so he leaves Darren to get high with his friends and crawls under the blankets. 

* 

"Hey," Chris hears a whisper that's not quite as quiet as the owner of the voice things it is. "Chris, man. You up?" 

Chris has no idea what time it is, but he feels sluggish from how deep of a sleep he'd been in and, beyond that, mostly sober - so he thinks it must have been a few hours. Nearing dawn, probably, but the curtains are drawn and he doesn't care to double check his guess. "No," he whispers. 

Darren laughs. "You want me to fuck off? I can fuck off. It's just, Joey kind of passed out on the couch, and you mentioned maybe like... letting me bunk down with you..." 

Suddenly, Chris is wide awake. 

* 

Darren is radiating warmth. 

There's no way Chris will be able to go back to sleep now. 

"You sure this is cool?" Darren asks. 

This close, Chris can smell the faint, acrid scent of weed and beer more than anything else. It's not the most pleasant, but he doesn't really care. It smells like - risk, like danger, like the circumstance that they've found themselves in. Strangers at a prolonged party of a weekend, dancing along a fine line. A little hasty, a little seedy, a lot of fun. 

"I'm sure," Chris says. 

"Cool." Darren shuffles in a little closer. "You should have come out with us. I kept looking for you." 

"Ah, it was. The smoke, kind of. Irritates my eyes." It's not the most clever excuse in the world, but it's also somewhat of a truth. 

Darren frowns. "Oh, damn. I didn't know." 

"It's fine." Chris is whispering. They both are. He has to resist the urge to clear his throat. "There's always tomorrow night?" 

"Yeah," Darren says. "Tomorrow night." 

* 

Chris doesn't really get back to sleep. He's groggy and over tired when he wakes up. Darren's turned to face away from him, and somehow that makes it easier to sneak out of bed. He manages to get his overnight bag and creep out of the room and toward the nearest bathroom he can remember seeing without disturbing Darren. 

He's not the only person up early. He sees a couple that had disappeared early into the night, the girl with the big friendly smile and the guy glued to her side. He murmurs a hello to them but bypasses the kitchen for the living room, where Cooper greets him with typical enthusiasm, ready for his morning walk. 

* 

It's late afternoon by the time Darren comes downstairs. He looks far too fresh and alert for someone who didn't get to bed until almost daybreak, but he makes a beeline straight for Chris and Cooper. 

* 

"You guys," Lauren says, draping herself across both of their laps. "You guys are gonna be so cute together." 

She's had three spiced cider's, and apparently that's all it takes. 

"Lo," Darren says, patting her head. "You gotta learn to pace yourself." 

"Fuck you," she giggles. "But seriously, like. You guys bang it out yet? Because you're so cute." 

"Oh my god." Chris looks the other way and covers his face with his hands. 

Darren nudges Chris with his arm until Chris looks back. "Come on, he's way too good for me." 

"Please," Chris says, scoffing. 

Darren looks like that's exactly the response he wanted. 

"Baaaang it outtttttt," Lauren says, then rolls off of their laps onto the floor. 

"Sorry about her," Darren says. 

Chris catches his eye and lets it be a _moment_ before he softly says, "Don't be." 

* 

If this were a story Chris were writing, there would be chapters of teasing, of slow careful buildup, perhaps a few miscommunication thrown in there just to make the moment when the two characters do get together have the most impact possible to the reader. 

But his life is not a story, and at just shy of midnight on a Saturday night Chris is making out with a guy he's met all of twice and knows nearly nothing about aside from how he's got a lovely singing voice and good taste in friends. 

(And that he really knows how to kiss.) 

* 

"So that invitation to not sleep on the couch..." Darren asks, fingers curled lazily around Chris's hip. They're back inside after almost an hour of kissing and laughing and talking until their fingers turned to ice. "Still open?" 

Chris leans more firmly into Darren. He's sure everyone has noticed, but they're not the only people snuggled up close tonight. "Why wouldn't it be?" 

Darren shrugs. "I don't know. I'm kinda like, into you, so I didn't know if you were the type who is like, into taking it slow?"   
a  
Chris kisses Darren on the jaw and whispers, "Not tonight." 

Darren's eyes flutter half shut. "Cool. Awesome. Nice." Then he finds the wherewithal to open his eyes again and ask, "But I can still get your number after tomorrow, right...?" 

Something inside Chris does a little dance. 

*

It's not a story Chris is writing. 

But it still has a happy ending.


End file.
